Augury
by AmazingGraceless
Summary: Delphi/Albus drabble(s). He knows she hurt him, but he still had a soft spot for her. Cursed Child Spoilers.
1. Tattoo

Albus Severus Potter had made many stupid decisions in his decidedly short life. One of them was his tattoo.

For his seventeenth birthday, instead of having some party, Albus had slept over at Malfoy Manor. His father hadn't been pleased, but he knew better now than to separate Albus and Scorpius. He played some Exploding Snap for the first hour and a half, and once the boys had figured the great Draco Malfoy had thought they would be good and retired for the night, they started a blaze in the fireplace.

With a toss of Floo powder and a violent change between red-orange and emerald green flames, Scorpius and Albus entered Diagon Alley. They were both of age now, were they not? They could run around a bit, spend their money.

They wandered the Wonderland street aimlessly until Albus saw the dim lighting of the Tatoo Artist shop. He tugged Scorpius along as he entered the shop that promised to be quick, painless, and hygienic on the sign in the window.

He paid the man up front, and he knew immediately the design he wanted on his back- a design that had haunted him since his fourth-year. So an augury was detailed on his back. As he waited during the procedure, holding completely still, he thought of _her_.

Delphini Riddle was still in Azkaban, naturally, and the memories of what she had done horrified him. Yet the stubborn side he'd inherited from both his mother and his father refused to let go of his first real crush.

Call him sentimental- the silvery augury on his back took him back to her long silver and blue hair, her confident, fearless voice that made him feel like he could do anything, and the perfume of an ancient love goddess, something he couldn't name but was the sweetest thing.

That night, Scorpius asked him if Albus was okay, knowing full well that the wound named Delphi hadn't healed and never would.

Albus, for the first and only time, lied.


	2. Obliviate

He ran from the Great Hall to the doorway upon hearing the crash, Scorpius on his heels. Wand in hand, he knew who had come for him, and he knew he had to face her. Indeed, standing in the wreckage was the blue and silver-haired girl wearing tattered punk clothing with a wicked smile as bright as the lightning raging behind her.

"Hello boys," she said with her cool confidence, despite appearing quite insane. "I knew you'd come to see me."

"Delphi, this ends here," Albus said, trying to sound braver than he felt. _Well, bravery isn't a Slytherin characteristic, is it?_

"We'll see," Delphi said, her wand pointing to Scorpius.

"No," Albus said, trying to make eye contact, trying to make her see him. "Face me instead. We both know it's me you want."

Delphi frowned briefly, shocked by the turn of events in her favor. Her lips curled into a blood-red smile.

"Potter will pay," she said with a sneer. "And I'll start by taking his son. He'll come for you- like my father never came for me."

"Albus, no!" Scorpius shouted, only for Delphi to cast a Binding Charm with a flick of her wand. He struggled wildly as Albus stepped towards Delphi, staring straight ahead. Then Albus's brilliant green eyes met Scorpius's thundercloud-gray.

"I have to do this," Albus said. "She'll destroy Hogwarts if I don't go with her."

Then he turned to Delphi, fighting back every feeling he'd felt since he was fourteen years old. Maybe it was wrong, but did he care about that when he was doing the ultimate right- sacrificing himself? No. No he didn't.

"Let's go."

"I knew you'd surrender to me," she crowed as she took his hand. In a bang they were gone. Instead, they were in a huge, dark manor on the moors.

" _Lumos_ ," Delphi murmured as she stepped over a facedown body. Albus knelt down to overturn the body to see the dead face of Euphemia Rowle.

"You killed them," Albus said blankly.

"They deserved it," Delphi said firmly. "They made my life hell, and for that they had to pay."

"Why are you doing this?" Albus asked, despite knowing the reason.

"Potter could've made me forget who I am, forget everything that made me different, special," she ranted. "I could've just remained the child of a Death Eater, the one with a sticky end that wouldn't amount to anything, but no, he had to send me to Azkaban! For life! When no one had to know what I was- they could've said that I'd died in the past, and let me live without knowing that I was Voldemort's daughter!"

"What if I made you forget?" Albus asked quickly. He didn't have much experience, but maybe, just maybe. . .

"It's too late now," she said with bitter laughter. "It's too-"

" _Obliviate_ ," Albus cried, trying to remove every memory she had where she had known she was Voldemort's child- a cursed child. When he was done, Delphi stood there with a blank expression. She blinked, then confusion twisted her features.

"Wh-where am I? Who are y-you?" she asked, afraid. "L-Last thing I remember is- is-"

Not waiting for an answer, she turned around, horrified, and sank to her knees.

"I can't remember- did I cause this?" she sobbed. "I-Is this the sticky end Eu-Euphemia always talked about?"

In the empty house, Albus heard the augury wail with Delphi. He embraced her, and she held onto him like an anchor as she sobbed.


	3. Colors

She was color. She was blue and black and silver and green. His life was devoid of the gold and red battle flags his father marched with. He was colorless, sitting in the backgrounds and watching. His best friend was yellow and pink-colors of happiness that he had yet to truly understand. He took on some of Scorpius's colors over the years-but never his father's, never having any of his own.

When she came into his life, she was blue and black and silver and green, the most color in one person that he'd ever seen. Her silvery blue curls bounced on her shoulders and her smile finally encouraged him to grow his own color.

He was purple. Not quite his father's determined, sacred red, or Scorpius's merry pink or Delphi's dreamlike blue, but his own, independent shade. He was the mystery, the one to decipher, not her. Yet to him, she was a mystery. Somehow, she'd done some sort of alchemy that left him with a mixture of the rainbow around her.

With her, he'd finally had color.

When Albus awoke from this dream, he sat in a cell, a cell that resembled the new Azkaban. Memories of the night before, the crying woman, and his own tears mingling with the augury's cries. What had he done?


End file.
